


Comfort & Calm

by MagalaBee



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27782896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagalaBee/pseuds/MagalaBee
Summary: In the stillness of the Hateno House, Link offers comfort and understanding to a princess who hasn't known freedom in over a century.
Relationships: Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Zelink - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 124





	Comfort & Calm

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't been able to write for Legend of Zelda in a while, but I am SO HAPPY to be doing it again!!! A special thanks to my pal Naomi (https://twitter.com/_mimimaru) who this piece is for! I hope everyone enjoys this look at some post-game feels and pining for the Hylian duo.

Link woke to the sound of Zelda screaming. He had heard many voices crying out in his own nightmares, but the visceral terror in her voice was beyond what his subconscious could ever imagine. Link reached for his sword on instinct, only to fumble as his hand hit the dusty wood floor instead. He had forgotten where he was sleeping tonight.

He jumped up quickly and blinked the focus back into his eyes as he climbed the small steps to the bedroom of his small house in Hateno. It was hard to see in the pitch of midnight, but he shuffled his feet along the floor to keep from running into anything. Zelda screamed again, her voice cracking into tears. Link scrambled to re-light the candle on the bedside table, the dim little flame bringing her distress into clarity.

Zelda wasn’t hurt, she was asleep, her hands clenched around the bedsheets and her face contorted in pain and anguish.

Night terrors. She had them too.

Link hated seeing her like this. In the first few days after Zelda’s return, she hadn’t even slept. She had stared out at Hyrule for hours. She said it was because she’d spent long enough fading out of her own consciousness when she was trapped in the Calamity. She hadn’t wanted to close her eyes yet.

But after Link had gotten her to Hateno, he had gently insisted that she try to rest. He slept on the floor below, gave her the space she needed, even though a part of him constantly wanted to reach out and touch her, to make sure she was really there.

This, he realized, must be the real reason she didn’t want to sleep. What untold horrors must she see behind her eyes?

He placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a small squeeze. Zelda startled as she woke up, her voice catching in her throat and tears still streaming down her face. Her eyes flickered to the corners of the room before she found him.

“I… I’m so sorry—“ she blurted, her voice was hoarse and trembling. “I woke you up…”

Link shook his head, about to tell her not to worry about it, but before he had a chance, the princess cracked again and let out another sob. She curled in on herself, wiping at her eyes in vain, and Link’s heart clenched tightly in his chest.

The young woman he remembered had been far from a perfect figure of composure and grace, but she had not suffered like this. He ached to see her smile again, to find a new fixation in their strange new world and convince him to try eating it. He wanted her to laugh and explore the wilds with him, feeling carefree for just a little bit before her responsibilities sank back in.

Anything but this…

Carefully, Link laid down next to her and wrapped his arms around Zelda. He pulled her in close, tucking her head under his chin so she could hide her tears in his dusty old tunic.

She shuddered in his arms, but her hands clutched at his clothes, holding onto him tight.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” she hiccuped.

“I slept for one hundred years,” Link reminded her in a whisper. He wasn’t much of a talker, but when they were alone, it felt easier to speak. Zelda made him feel comfortable in a way he couldn’t quite explain. “I’m kinda tired of sleeping.”

Zelda let out a breath and it almost sounded like she was laughing. A valiant effort to put on a brave face for him. In response, he hugged her a bit tighter. 

For a moment, they just laid there, holding onto one another in the peaceful silence of the night. There were no more battles for them to worry about. No more enemies to fight. For the first time in over a century, they both had the opportunity to simply lay down and know that they wouldn’t be killed in the night.

Too bad their bodies didn’t know what to do with all the calm. They both still had the edge of danger and trauma in their bones.

Link slowly exhaled and without even thinking about it, he brought a hand up to smooth over Zelda’s hair. His fingers stroked through her long, golden locks and he heard Zelda inhale sharply.

“Sorry—“ he whispered, loosening his grip on her. He must have crossed a boundary.

“N-No,” Zelda stammered. “Please… that felt nice.”

Link hesitated before he ran his fingers through her hair again. Her hair was a bit matted and mussed from trying to sleep, but still thick and soft. She hummed quietly under her breath, soothed by the careful show of affection. This wasn’t something they would have ever dared to do before the Calamity. As princess and knight, such familiarities had been forbidden. But now, they were just people and they could find comfort where they needed it.

Link turned his cheek, leaning it against her head. Something in him ached, a sweet, stinging pang in his heart. He had wanted to hold her since he had gotten his memories back and remembered their old lives together.

So many years he’d spent looking at the princess, knowing he could never touch her. Link still felt a longing that he didn’t know how to put into words, but for a moment, the ache had lessened.

After a few minutes of comforting silence, Link stroking Zelda’s hair, he noticed that her breathing had stilled and shallowed. Zelda let out a heavy, sleepy sigh and nuzzled against his shoulder. His heart skipped in his chest.

“Goodnight,” Link whispered, knowing that she couldn’t hear him anymore. She had fallen back to sleep, finding comfort in his arms, and despite all of the fighting he had done and all of the lives he had saved, Link had never felt more useful than he did right then. 

“I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”


End file.
